


All Our Years

by twisting_vine_x



Category: Free!
Genre: 31 Days Of Halloween, Angst, Best Friends, Blushing, Confessions, Cuddling, Embarrassment, Feelings, First Kiss, Haru!POV, Haru’s in love and finally knows it, Insecurity, M/M, Makoto is the pumpkin carving master, Masturbation, Pining, best-friends-to-lovers-finally, but he thinks it’s unrequited, face-painting, post-season two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-19 19:18:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2399837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twisting_vine_x/pseuds/twisting_vine_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A/N: While this was inspired by the <a href="http://twisting-vine-x.tumblr.com/post/98876351616/alright-whew-boy-i-am-actually-going-to-do">31 Days Of Halloween challenge</a> on tumblr (prompts: 'pumpkin' and 'orange'), it’s basically just become the soulmates-in-Tokyo fic that I’ve been wanting to write since the show ended. In other words, I’m creating my own little Hallowe’en-themed headcanon for how these two finally get together. :) </p>
<p>(Part one is pumpkin carving; and part two shall involve some Hallowe'en face-painting on Haru’s living room floor.)</p>
<p>Summary: <i>But – Makoto left. Was going to leave him. Was going to go away to Tokyo. Haru had to chase him. Makoto can’t feel the way Haru does, or he would have never tried to split them up.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pumpkin

**Author's Note:**

> First fic in this fandom. Hope ya'll awesome folks enjoy it. :)

Haru’s never done this before, and the knife in his hand looks a little too sharp.

This isn’t exactly the same as cutting up mackerel.

“You've got to cut a circle around the top first, just – here, I’ll show you.”

Makoto’s smile is soft and sweet – as always – and Haruka does his best to ignore the way it makes his stomach flutter. It’s something that he’s become an expert at, but now that it’s just the two of them – now that they’re in Tokyo, together, without any of the familiarity of their old lives; without any of that shared locational history around to kick some sense into him – it’s becoming harder and harder.

Makoto is straight. Makoto is his best friend. Haru cannot fuck this up.

“Here, just – you literally just cut the top off and scoop out the guts.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“It’s worth it. We can fry up the seeds later, too.”

Makoto has done this, of course. He’s got younger siblings. Haru had never really bothered with Hallowe’en, despite the way Nagisa had shown up in costume every year. He’s just never seen the point of –

Makoto’s fingers are on his hand.

Haru’s pretty sure he’s blushing clean down his neck.

Hands over the knife and watches as Makoto starts carving through the top of the pumpkin. In the silence of his small apartment – they’re sitting on the floor, garbage bags underneath them – Haru feels like he can hear his own heartbeat.

God, why couldn't he have just gone on being _oblivious_. This is so much worse now that he finally gets why he can’t breathe around Makoto.

“Haru?”

Haru looks up. Realizes that Makoto’s nudged his pumpkin back to him. Stares down at it, and then picks up the giant spoon by his knee. He may have no idea what he’s doing, but it can’t be that hard. He’s managed to make a life out of swimming in Tokyo. Surely he can figure out how to gut a pumpkin. Starts in with the spoon as Makoto works on cutting through the top of the pumpkin, looking far too happy for someone who’s digging into a mess of pumpkin innards; and Haru really needs to just focus on what he’s doing, because Makoto is far too distracting, and –

Makoto’s practically always at his apartment, now, and – it’s Haru’s own apartment. His very own. He’s no longer living in the house he’d shared with his family. He has his own kitchen, now, and his own bathtub, and his one single bedroom, with the biggest bed he could fit; and every time Makoto’s around, puttering around the kitchen or watering Haru’s plants or doing homework on the living room floor, Haru feels like the place is too small, like there’s not enough air in the room, like he’s going to give himself away – but he never wants Makoto to leave, either.

He _really_ never wants him to leave. He’d looked into that future, and it had been horrifying.

He’s not sure how he’d ever thought he could make it without Makoto.

Over a decade together, and Haru’s only finally realizing just _how_ desperately he needs him.

It’s not a good thought. Makoto needs him too, maybe, but – not in the same way.

He was going to leave. For once, Haru was the one who ended up following.

Haru needs to not need him this much.

“Haru?”

Makoto’s not smiling anymore. Is frowning, even, the lid of his pumpkin sitting by his knee; and Haru’s becoming more and more grateful for his ability to conceal his own thoughts. He’s going to need it, for hopefully the rest of his life, because he can't ever lose this man – though his stomach’s a bit sick, suddenly. He’d rather have Makoto as his best friend than nothing, but the rest of his life is a long time to feel this way.

“Are you okay?”

And – yes, alright, maybe he’s not doing as good a job of hiding as he’d hoped.

“I –”

His throat’s tight. The air around him feels still. Makoto’s head is tilted, just the slightest bit.

“What’s wrong? If there’s anything –”

“Do you want to move in with me?”

Fuck.

 _Fuck_.

Makoto’s mouth is hanging open.

Haru’s hands are on his knees. His lungs aren’t working. His fingers are covered in pumpkin.

He is such an _idiot_.

“Haru, I – I thought you _wanted_ separate places.”

Haru shakes his head. He’d thought that _Makoto_ wanted his own place. He’d thought – he’s still staring down at his messy hands. He’s going to give himself away. He’s going to ruin _everything_.

“Well, my lease is month-to-month. If you really want to leave here and find a place together –”

Haru wants him _here_. He likes it here. They should only need one bed, anyway. It’s not _fair_.

“– there are some decent two-bedrooms, close enough to the school.”

Makoto had been looking at two-bedroom apartments? When had he been –

“We can move as soon as your lease expires, if you’re serious –”

“I am.”

“Well, good. Only four months to go, then.”

It doesn’t help. If anything, it makes it worse. What has he _done_.

“Haru.”

And – why is Haru’s chest _aching_ so badly. God, it hurts. _Everything_ hurts. This is so _stupid_.

“What.”

But Makoto doesn’t say anything else. He’s waiting, Haru knows. He’s the only one who knows how to just _wait_. Haru should probably hate how well Makoto knows him. Doesn’t, though. _Really_ doesn’t. Is never going to stop being grateful for it, actually. Never going to stop being grateful, too, that there are at least some parts of him that even Makoto hasn’t figured out yet. Though if they’re _living_ together, just the two of them –

Haru is going to have to be _so_ careful.

Hears Makoto’s phone buzz, from somewhere, but Makoto doesn’t move; and when Haru looks up, Makoto is all but  _beaming_ at him. Doesn’t look like any of the horrible things that Haru is feeling. Just – looks so _happy_. It’s one of his bigger smiles, and his eyes are bright, and his cheeks look a bit flushed; and maybe that’s enough. Maybe Haru can cling to Makoto’s happiness, and have it be enough for both of them.

Someday, Makoto’s going to get married and move out and have children and start a home.

For now, Haru needs to take whatever he can get, and just be grateful for it.

“You going to show me how to carve a face into this thing, or what?”

“Of course, Haru.”

And – Makoto’s still smiling at him, but it's gentled into something that looks horribly fond, and maybe even the teeniest little bit amused, as though he can see straight through Haru; and Haru does his best to glare back. It’s bad enough that Makoto still won’t drop the –chan. The last thing Haru needs is for Makoto to start looking at him like Haru’s done something cute. Haru’s pretty sure he won’t survive that.

“Scary or funny?”

“Scary.”

“Then we’ll make this the scariest pumpkin to ever grace the neighbourhood.”

His voice is soft, and his grin has settled back into that soft little smile that Haru – even after all the time – _still_ isn’t used to having directed at him; and when Makoto scoots closer until their shoulders are bumping, with Haru’s pumpkin in front of both of them, Haru closes his eyes and – if he maybe possibly leans in a little bit closer, he’s just going to hope that Makoto doesn’t mind.

If this is what he can get, he’ll take it.

He’s gotten more of Makoto than anyone else ever has, and he needs to be grateful for that.


	2. Orange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for a brief description of an almost-panic attack.

They’re moving in together.

They’re _moving in together_.

Haru has fucked up so badly.

It’s been a week, and he hasn’t stopped kicking himself. Hasn’t seen much of Makoto, either – he’s got a whole bunch of projects, all at once, which has basically involved him living at the school – and that’s been a bit of a blessing, actually; because Haru has been quietly falling apart.

He’s asked Makoto to move in with him.

Haru can already barely handle having Makoto here to visit, now that it’s just them, in Haru’s own little apartment; and Haru has _no idea_ how he’s going to survive living together. He feels a bit sick every time he thinks of it, actually. Why couldn’t he have just kept his _stupid_ mouth shut.

\- - -

That night, he’s on his laptop, and sees that Makoto’s become facebook friends with some cheerful-looking girl. Has posted a photo of them together in the library, both of them grinning at the camera, and – the girl has her arm slung around Makoto’s shoulders, and Makoto looks _happy_.

Haru has no right to be upset.

None.

Absolutely zero.

It’s petty and stupid and probably a really fucking unattractive personality trait.

That doesn’t stop him from curling up in a ball and wrapping the blankets around himself.

He _hates_ this. Why couldn’t he have just gone on being _oblivious_.

\- - -

It’s later that night as he’s lying in bed – wondering how long he’s actually felt like this, without realizing it; wondering when, exactly, he ended up falling; wondering just how many years he’s mistaken his desperate need for Makoto as mere friendship – when his phone buzzes. He’d never used it before; but now with Makoto not always around, and with Rei and Nagisa and Rin all living in different cities – he wants all of them to be able to reach him whenever they need to.

_Hey, Haru-chan! Hope I didn’t wake you. :) Question. I’m volunteering at a kids’ swim club next week, and we’re expected to be in charge of facepainting. Any chance I could practice on you?_

Haru stares at it.

Stares at it some more.

Feels his chest go all tight and achy.

See, this is _exactly_ why – it’s the things like this. Makoto doesn’t feel the same as Haru. If he did, he would _never_ suggest something like this. It’s going to leave basically no space between them.

Haru can say no. He _knows_ he can. Makoto won’t push. Hell, Haru’s surprised he’s even asking in the first place. Though – given that Haru had followed Makoto to Tokyo like a lovesick idiot, maybe he’s pretty much given away the fact that he’d do anything for him, which – shit, he’s pathetic. And if he – he _really_ needs to not do this. Needs to say no. It doesn’t matter how much he wants that closeness, or wants to help Makoto with this.

Haru _cannot_ let Makoto get that close.

_I’m free tomorrow night, if that works for you._

Haru is a fool. An absolute colossal fool.

_Great! :) I can be over at seven?_

_Sounds good._

_Awesome. Sweet dreams, Haru-chan. See you tomorrow. :)_

Haru stares at the phone until the screen goes black again.

Sets it down beside him and curls onto his side, pulling the blankets tight around him, and –

He is _not_ going to cry.

He’d cried his heart out the night after their fight. He has no desire to ever repeat that.

Closes his eyes and clings on a bit tighter to the blankets.

He’s an idiot. _Such_ an absolute fucking idiot.

\- - -

Haru calls in sick the next day.

One day won’t break his career. And he needs some time to breathe.

Sleeps in until well past noon, and then gets up and makes mackerel.

Curls up in the bathtub, afterwards, and keeps refilling it whenever the water gets cold.

Closes his eyes and hates himself as he wraps his fingers around himself – Makoto is going to be _touching his face_ ; and Haru needs to be as exhausted as possible, by the time that happens – and then soaks in the water, trying to draw some comfort from it, until he’s good to go again. Bites his lip and shoves his forehead against the side of the tub and comes down shaking, the air all gone out of the room and his face flushed hot and his limbs all gone weak. Empties the tub and stumbles back into his bedroom, where he falls naked into his bed and wraps the blankets around himself, and –

He’s awful. He is the worst best friend ever.

Who does this to their _best friend_.

God, if Makoto were to ever find out –

Haru wraps the blankets tighter around him and buries as deep into his bed as he can.

\- - -

By the time seven rolls around, Haru is pretty sure he’s on the edge of a panic attack.

He’s never had one before. Doesn’t think he has, anyway. Has probably come pretty close, a few times. Enough so that he’s researched the symptoms, at least. And this – yeah, this is getting pretty close to that. If his chest gets any tighter he’s going to lose the ability to breathe all together.

“Haru?”

He’s sitting right on the living room couch, and he hadn’t even heard Makoto come in.

What is _wrong_ with him.

“You, uh – you alright? You’re looking a little –”

Makoto’s hand-wave is a little vague, but it’s probably the nice way of saying, _You look like shit_ ; and Haru gets up and takes a breath, and – wow, he wants Makoto’s arms around him. That’s it. He’d settle for just that. Just a hug. It would only make things worse, but he wants it anyway.

“How was class?”

“Oh, you know – same as always. Volunteering’s part of the credit for one of my courses, so – are you _sure_ you don’t mind helping? I can always find someone else to –”

“No.”

Makoto pauses in the midst of sliding his backpack off. Frowns at Haru, and opens his mouth –

“I just meant – I don’t mind. I can help. What do you need to paint?”

It sounds a bit hysterical, even to his own ears; and Makoto’s still frowning as he sets the bag down, and starts pulling off his jacket. Haru finds himself looking at the floor. His face has gone hot.

“Probably a pumpkin, and maybe some bats. Halloween things, basically. You sure you okay?”

“Fine.”

“Because you look – do you have a fever?”

Haru – almost – wants to laugh. Either that, or cry. Ends up just standing there like an idiot – he is going to give himself away, he is going to ruin _everything_ – and the thought, somehow, is enough to get him moving. Enough to get a little scoffing sound of his way-too-tight throat.

“Just – probably made my bath too hot.”

“Of course you did.”

Makoto’s smiling at him, now, soft and sweet, the way Haru is used to but still isn’t actually _used_ to – but it’s better than him being concerned, at least, and Haru – sitting on the floor is probably going to happen, anyway, so he might as well do it now. Before his legs give out on him. Doesn’t miss the way Makoto’s smile curves up a bit higher, as he kneels down _right in front of him_ , setting a rectangular box down beside him, and – he puts his other hand on Haru’s knee.

On his damn knee.

Haru kind of wants to cry.

“This alright?”

“Fine.”

It’s not fine. It’s the opposite of fine.

He sounds like he’s been crawling around in the desert for days.

And Makoto is – smiling at him.

Smiling at him from far too close. Haru only realizes he’s opened the box and pulled out one of the orange crayons when it’s already hovering over his cheek, and – his face must be on fire, for the crayon to feel that cool, damp against his skin; and of _course_ Makoto is going to treat him like he’s breakable, even now. It’s just a crayon, and the touch is still so gentle it hurts; and Makoto is still managing to look concerned, his eyebrows furrowed just a bit, and –

“Alright?”

Makoto’s voice is soft, and sweet; and Haru closes his eyes.

Feels, a bit, like he’s either going to burst into tears, or burst into flames.

“Haru –”

“Fin-ne, fine i-it’s –”

It’s shaky, and strangled-sounding; and he needs to stop _talking_.

Keeps his eyes closed, as Makoto’s fingers tighten against his knee, and the crayon starts to move across his cheek, soft and gentle and damp, with Makoto’s breath on his face and his fingers gentling again against his knee, and – Haru was wrong. He can’t do this. He must have a serious masochistic streak to have agreed to this, because this is just cruel. What was he _thinking._

“So, uh – how is training going?”

Makoto’s way too close.

Haru swallows.

He feels like all the air has gone out of the room.

Feels like his heart’s going to break and shatter out of his chest, as Makoto’s thumb slides across his cheek.

This isn’t _fair_.

“Haru-chan?”

He can’t speak. _Why_ can’t he – he should have _never_ agreed to this.

“You’re, um – you’re kind of freaking me out, here. What’s wrong?”

The crayon’s not on his cheek anymore, but – Makoto’s hand is still there. Still pressed warm and soft against his face, fingers curled in against his cheek; and his other hand is still on his knee.

Slowly, his heart slamming, Haru opens his eyes, and –

Is Makoto – _blushing_?

It’s like Haru can actually feel his brain stutter.

Watches as Makoto seems to remember his hand, because he drops it, and blushes even worse.

“Sorry-y.”

Makoto blushes at everything. Haru cannot read into this.

He _can’t_.

Except – except that Makoto’s not looking at him, anymore. He’s holding on to the crayon, and staring down at it. Looks – looks like Haru feels, maybe. Which is – that’s _impossible_ . Makoto is straight. Makoto doesn’t – and even if he _was_ interested in boys, he could do so much better than –

Except. Except that Makoto has stuck with him all these years. Likes being around him. Haru _knows_ he does.

But – Makoto left. Was going to leave him. Was going to go away to Tokyo. Haru had to chase him.

Makoto  _can’t_ feel the way Haru does, or he would have never tried to split them up.

“Haru?”

And – Makoto sounds freaked out, suddenly. His eyes have gone wide; and Haru blinks, his throat all tight, and only realizes what’s happening when he feels a tear slide down his cheek.

Fuck. 

 _Fuck_.

He rubs at the side of his cheek, suddenly furious with himself, embarrassment burning hot in his stomach; and Makoto just kneels there and stares at him. Haru’s pretty sure he’s not waiting for Haru to say something, this time. Pretty sure he’s just freaking out, and – Haru’s heart is hurting.

“Haru-u –what –”

“Why did you try to leave me?”

He’s pretty sure his apartment’s never been this silent.

Only realizes he’s staring at the floor when Makoto’s hands grab his; and Makoto looks the way he had during their fight, scared and sad, and – god, Haru doesn’t _want_ to fight with him, that wasn’t –

“Haru, I never – that’s not why I – I was never going to leave _you_ , I –”

“But you _were_ , you – you were going to come here, and –”

“I _always_ want to be where you are – don’t you – how can you not get that?”

 _I always want to be where you are_.

Makoto has tears in his eyes, too.

Something inside Haru is breaking open.

“I just – I needed to – it’s _school,_ Haru, not the rest of our lives, and – we could have, after, we could have moved in together, or something, and – I-I was never going to leave _you,_ Haru, alright, I could _never –”_

Haru only realizes he’s kissed him when Makoto jerks away.

Jerks away, and Haru nearly falls right on top of him, and –

He’s going to be sick.

“Haru?”

Oh, _god,_ oh god, what has he done, what has he –

Makoto’s hands are on his cheeks. 

Just holds him there, for a horrible second, before he makes this soft little sound and kisses him, just barely.

Gentle and shaky, their lips barely brushing together; and then Makoto pulls back to stare at him, and Haru can't fucking breathe.

Makoto looks absolutely shocked, wide-eyed, the tears spilling down his cheeks, now, too, and –

Haru all but topples forward, and ends up with his face shoved into Makoto’s shoulder, and Makoto’s arms wrapped around him.

“Haru.”

It’s shaky, and barely audible, and Makoto’s heart is slamming against him, and his hand is in Haru’s hair, and –

Haru can't _breathe._

“I didn’t think – I n-never thought you felt the same, Haru, I-I –”

“Of _course_ I-I do, how could I _not_ –”

Makoto’s grip around him turns crushing, and he makes a noise that sounds almost hurt; and Haru closes his eyes.

Closes them and holds on as tight as he can, as Makoto makes that soft little sound again and pulls him in closer, and -

Haru blinks against the tears and just holds on, his throat gone too tight to speak.

Makoto's shaking, holding on tight, too, like he can't get close enough, either, and - Haru wants to stay right here, just like this, for the rest of their lives. 

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone fancies being [tumblr](http://twisting-vine-x.tumblr.com/) buddies, I'm always happy to make new friends. ♥
> 
> (Note: my blog will have major spoilers for the Attack on Titan manga; so if you'd like to be friends and avoid those, the tag to blacklist is, 'aot manga spoilers'.)


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